


Dirty

by my_unlikely_hero



Series: Misc. Foxhole Court fics [2]
Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (by the victim himself), M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Nightmares, Trigger Warnings, Victim Blaming, riko is a piece of shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_unlikely_hero/pseuds/my_unlikely_hero
Summary: Jean discusses his abuse with Jeremy.





	

Jean Moreau had a *thing* about being touched by Jeremy. The other Trojans could clap him on the back, nudge his shoulder, even ruffle his hair or give him a hug-- as long as the contact is brief, and not unexpected. It took Jean a very *very* long time to be that comfortable around the Trojans. Long months of slow acclimation to freedom; getting Jean on a healthy diet, rather than obsessively counting calories, and a normal sleeping schedule. Getting him to join in on team dinners and bonding nights that consist of only movies or games or both, and no hands holding him down. Careful consideration of Jean’s privacy and personal space slowly builds his trust in the team. But Jean won't touch them. 

JereJean has been official (but still a well kept secret amongst the Trojans) for only a few short months. They're taking it slow for obvious reasons; Jean has more trust issues than a beaten dog and he never really tells Jeremy why. He lets Jeremy sit beside him when he wakes up screaming and runs from the bedroom. He lets him hold the sleeve of his shirts or the pockets of his jeans but won't hold Jeremy’s hand. Over the clothes, affection was fine but Jean seemed to deem skin to skin contact out of bounds. 

Jean doesn't tell him it's because he still feels dirty. That he feels diseased and doesn't want to contaminate the one bright thing in his bleak life. He doesn't dare tell Jeremy how disgusting he feels, even after hundreds of showers and scrubbing his skin raw with the water as hot as he can stand it. 

Jeremy can't know because it would tear his soft little heart to pieces and Jean doesn't want to hurt him like that. It would kill him to know the tortured Riko enforced on him, to hear the things Riko made Jean do. What Riko made the Ravens do to Jean. 

When the nights are too dark and too quiet, Jean's memories taint his dreams. He relives chosen moments-- the worst moments-- of the Nest. Of being thirteen and having Riko break one of Jean's fingers because he tripped up on court. Of being fourteen and having to break his own finger because Riko has a knife to Jean's stomach. Of being sixteen and cuffed to his bed with Kevin and Riko and an older Raven-- of Riko telling the man to fuck him. Of being seventeen and having Riko pass him, drugged and naked, around the room of Raven men. 

So if he wakes up still feeling the ghosts of hands on him, screaming in Japanese, ‘don't do this to me please!’ Well, none of the Trojans speak Japanese. But Jeremy’s hair is blonde, not black, and his skin is tanned from the California sun. He doesn't leave Jean to panic alone, and follows him to the living room when he runs from the bedroom to curl on the couch. And Jeremy is definitely is not laughing at his pain. Nothing about the tears on Jean's face is even remotely amusing. Jeremy is the opposite of Riko in every way that matters and that makes him a grounding presence at Jean's side. 

“Jean.” Jeremy whispers in French. “Tell me? Please?” 

Jeremy reaches slowly for Jean's shaking hand, but Jean pulls away. 

“D-don't. You'll get dirty.” His hands ache from the memories of breaking his own fingers for Riko's amusement. But he can still feel the sweat and fluids of Raven men on his skin and he doesn't want it to infect Jeremy. 

“You're clean, Jean. You took a shower before bed, remember? You're in California, with me. It's just us here, in our apartment.” 

The apartment they shared together, with four locks on the front door, two locks on the bathroom door and three on the bedroom door. With two beds squeezed in the single bedroom because Jean still doesn't dare share the bed with Jeremy, for multiple reasons. With a bookshelf in the corner by Jean's favorite chair, filled with Jean's favorite books.

This is not the Nest. He hasn't been inside the Raven’s Nest in more than a year. It's summer break and nobody will force him to practice with broken fingers and an agonizing limp. They are in California, hundreds of miles away from the men who hurt Jean. But he can still feel their bodily fluids on his skin like a stain, and he can't let Jeremy touch him. Can't let Jeremy be as dirty as Jean is. 

“Keep talking.” Jean doesn't beg. 

“It's July 6th, 2015. It's really hot outside and our lazy cat is sleeping on the window ledge.” Jeremy rambles about useless things, like the constellations that should be out tonight and the misadventures of Laila and Alvarez at the Mayan pyramids they were visiting this summer. He talks until Jean stops shaking. 

“Chocolate milk?” Jeremy offers, knowing his boyfriend’s preference on hot nights. Jean nods with a little quirk of his lips that might be an attempt at a smile, for Jeremy's benefit. He knows Jean would prefer to sit in silence than to turn the tv on. 

He returns and hands Jean his milk. Chocolate of any kind was punishable in the Nest. They drink in silence, still. After his heart rate calms again and his shaking stills Jean likes a little space to breath. But something is bothering Jeremy, something Jean said, and he cannot just let it rest. 

“You're not dirty.” Jeremy says in the surest voice he has. 

“You don't know that.” Jean snaps, angry at Jeremy's ignorance. 

“Why do you think that?” Jeremy can't help but ask. Jean looks tired and uncomfortable. 

“You don't know what they did to me.” 

“You mean there were others, besides Riko. Did they hurt you too?”

Jean nods. It's like prying answers from a stone, with the reluctance that he speaks. 

“What did they do? You can tell me, Jean.” Jeremy prods when Jean remains too quiet. “I won't judge you for any of it. I promise.” 

“Riko broke my fingers three times. He made me do it just as many.” Jeremy can see Jean's fingers, thin and crooked, with knotty knuckles. He's surprised Jean has admitted anything at all, yet some part of him wants to know what else. What other damage his ferocious French bean has endured. 

“You are so strong.” Jeremy whispers. He knows he's still staring at Jean, and Jean is staring back with disbelief. 

“No I'm not. Shut up, you don't understand what you are talking about. You don't know, you weren't there. I fought, but I was too weak. I fought them every time they came for me, and it was always useless. And so I *quit* fighting. That is not strength, it was weakness.” 

Jean is furious. Jeremy can't understand, no matter how much Jean could talk about it. He can't explain how many took him, one at a time, all night until practice. How much it hurt, how much he screamed and begged for them to *please, don't do this to me*. How Jean had to participate in practice. How much he had bled, enough to soak his boxers and stain his uniform. Jeremy could never understand, because he has never been in that position. Has never been cuffed to anything, nevermind a bed in the Ravens Nest. 

“But you're still here, with me. You didn't let them kill you, you didn't quit like that. And you defied Riko by joining the team he hated almost as much as the Foxes.” Jeremy grins, which prompts Jean into rolling his eyes. 

“Shut up, Knox. You don't know a damn thing.”

They sit in silence again, the only sound the clinching of glass as they stirred their drinks. 

“What else?” Jeremy asks, because he thinks Jean's ‘sharing mood’ is so rare, he has to seize the chance. He hopes it will be like ripping off a bandaid, if Jean puts it all out there at once. Jeremy thinks it would do him good, not to keep his wounds to himself. 

“He liked running water over me, over my face like you hear in the news. He would cut into me for hours, and then have someone stitch me back together.”

“I've seen the scars,” Jeremy nods. Some of them are deep and jagged and raised, but most are thin puckers on pale skin. 

To jeremy’s surprise, Jean keeps talking. His words are said roughly, like a challenge. Like he is daring Jeremy to listen. This is not a confession, it is a game of chicken. 

“For my birthday, Riko would let a group of Raven upperclassmen into my room. He stood there with Kevin and watched them fuck me. He wasn't gay. He wouldn't do it himself. But for five years… he made them stop, after I quit fighting. He thought it wasn't fun anymore.” 

Jeremy looks pale, like he might get sick. He stares at Jean with something akin to pain on his face. “Jean…” 

Jeremy doesn't know what to say, for a moment. So he sits quietly with the weight of new found knowledge. 

“You asked. You said you wanted to know.” Jean is snarling, like a wet cat backed into a corner. He is all snarl and teeth, arms wrapped around his torso. 

“I did. I don't-- I didn't mean…” Jeremy takes a shaking breath, his anxiety rising. “I am so sorry, Jean. I didn't know.”

“So do you want me off your team yet? I am a liability. ”

“You're not dirty.” Jeremy blurts before he can stop himself. “You know that, right? You did not deserve that. That was not your fault. They didn't *taint* you, or whatever you're thinking. What they did to you was not your fault.” 

Jean stares back with a grimace. It's like he can taste Jeremy's words in his mouth, and they taste bitter on his tongue. 

“I know that.” Jean says. Logically, he knows that it wasn't his fault. It was theirs, for touching Jean, even when he screamed and thrashed to get free. It was Riko's, for making them. It was the Moriyama’s, for being so fucked up, and Jean's parents, for selling him like chattel. 

“Whatever you feel, Jean, it's okay. It's not your fault.” 

Jean doesn't believe him yet. But he will, eventually. Jeremy is there to stay, no matter what horrors Jean has suffered through


End file.
